Free Beautifully Wounded (The Beaumont Brothers) by Susan Griscom

changing my so-called destiny.
    After closing the window, I turned to walk away and stubbed my toe on something. I looked down to see a metal hammer lying on the floor. I picked it up and glanced around the room wondering why Jackson had left it on the floor. There didn’t appear to be any projects in the room that he’d been working on, but I guess he could have been working on just about anything that needed a hammer. I took it over to the daybed with me and placed it under the pillow before sitting down again.
    No sooner had I settled back down when I heard a knock. I looked up and saw Jackson’s smile through the glass window at the top of the door. I thought Jackson had a key, but I was pleased that he didn’t just walk in. I’d had very jumpy nerves since earlier that morning, and I’m sure I would have freaked out if he’d just walked in.
    “Come in,” I said, but the door didn’t open.
    Instead, I heard, “I can’t. I’m out of hands.”
    I giggled a little , and got up to open the door to find him standing there, a wide smile gracing his beautiful jaw as the smell of chicken soup wafted through the air. He balanced a tray with a bowl of soup and crackers, a sandwich with something that looked like meatloaf inside it, and a tall glass of milk on one palm. In the other, he held a couple of books.
    “Hi,” he said.
    “Hi,” I returned. He just stood there, balancing that tray, so I said, “Is that dinner?”
    “Oh. Yeah.” He laughed as he entered the room. He set the tray down on the table and simply stared at me. We stood in silence a moment before either one of us spoke.
    “I thought you might be hungry ,” he finally said. “I’m actually a pretty good cook … usually, but I … I didn’t have much time to go to the store today … I mean, considering. That meatloaf is from last night. I hope you like meat … I mean, I hope you eat it. I mean, meat.”
    I didn’t say anything, mainly because he was kind of cute standing there fumbling over his words like a kid suddenly called upon to read his essay aloud to a room full of laughing teeny-boppers. You know, the one about what he did on his summer vacation, the vacation that ended with his first kiss. Then he added, “Meatloaf. I hope you like meatloaf.”
    “I do. Thanks.” Jackson seemed a little different all of a sudden. Almost, shy. I didn’t think of him as a shy man considering how he’d helped me so far, and I wondered what brought on the change. But when I looked down at myself, I realized the thermal shirt I wore adhered to my breasts as though it was molded to them, revealing my nipples. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest, and headed to the sofa. I didn’t own a bra any longer, so I didn’t know exactly how to fix the problem.
    “I have a friend who is about your size,” Jackson said. “Maybe she can lend you a … some clothes until we can get you some of your own. In the meantime, I’ll … uh, be right back.”
    The quick sound of his footsteps on the stairs indicated he was running, and I guess I was right when he came back up, huffing out of breath, holding a terry robe out for me to put on.
    “Thank you,” I said, quickly shrugging into the soft blue material that not only hid my breasts , but also covered my hands since the sleeves fell two inches below them.
    “Here, let me help,” he said, taking one of the sleeves and rolling up the cuffs so that my hand appeared again. Then he did the same with the other one.
    I smiled and sat, crossing my arms back over my chest . I felt very self-conscious now. I guess neither one of us had noticed before since I’d been sitting down the entire time. Plus, my back had been to him while he’d been brushing my hair.
    “This all looks amazing. Thank you.” I said, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite. “Mmmm, this is delicious,” I said with a mouth full and covering my lips with my fingers while I chewed then swallowed. “Have you eaten?”
    “Yeah. I